


Parental Support (Group)

by bettername2come



Category: Aquaman (2018), DC Extended Universe, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Fish out of Water, Fluff, Gen, Minor Clark Kent/Lois Lane, Parenthood, Wedding Fluff, characters that need to meet, yes i said it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 01:10:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettername2come/pseuds/bettername2come
Summary: Parenting is hard enough without adding superheroes to the mix. At least they've got people who understand what they're going through, the good and the bad.





	Parental Support (Group)

**Author's Note:**

> My brain decided to write Aquaman fanfiction. My brain and I are going to have words later about where it chooses to siphon my creativity.

 

Arthur hadn’t even been planning to go to Lois and Clark’s wedding – events that required suits and ties weren’t exactly his style. He’d thrown out the save-the-date that had been sent to his father’s house, along with the first official invitation sent to the same address. Which made it just a little awkward when Clark, completely politely, swam down to Atlantis to hand-deliver an invitation, assuming Arthur’s lack of response was due to him not receiving it due to being so busy as King of Atlantis. He didn’t know Arthur had been having dinner with his parents on the surface at least twice a week, happy to finally be able to have a family dinner. Mera does know this, but stays uncharacteristically silent about the matter, while they talk underneath the air pocket she’s created for them – Clark may not need to breathe, but that doesn’t mean he can talk clearly underwater.

Only when Clark has returned to the land (or possibly the sky) does Mera call Arthur out on his rudeness. “Is this how you treat your friends and fellow warriors on land? You ignore their hospitality without even the courtesy of a ‘no thank you’?”

Arthur sighed. “You don’t know Clark,” Arthur said. “Actually, I don’t know him that well either, which is part of the reason I didn’t want to go, but if I told him that, he’d be so nice about it while secretly being hurt and without even meaning to, he’d give these puppy dog eyes that would make me feel like a complete dick for not going.”

“Not that you feel like one now, of course,” Mera replied.

“No, of course not.”

Mera slipped her arms around his neck, pulling Arthur closer to her. “Aren’t you always trying to get me to understand the surface world better? Wouldn’t seeing one their ceremonies, participating in their customs help me to become more familiar with their ways? With _your_ ways?”

“And you wish you could be part of my world?” Arthur asked, brushing a strand of red hair away over her ear.

“You’ve become part of mine,” she replied, missing his Disney reference and remind him that they would need to break out the DVD player the next time they visited his parents.

Arthur leaned forward, planting a gentle kiss on her lips. “All right, we’ll go. But, sweetheart, I don’t care how much you ask, I am not dancing.”

Mera tilted her head curiously. “What’s dancing?”

Arthur sighed once more. An aquatic Disney marathon was definitely in their future.

*

Arthur had thought that would be the end of it. The next time he went to the surface he mentioned to his parents that he would be spending some time in Metropolis for a friend’s wedding, which prompted a whole slew of questions from his mother until his father finally piped up with, “Maybe you should just ask Clark if we can come along.”

Arthur wanted to say no, but he saw the look of absolute delight on his mother’s face and knew there was no way he could tell her no. He smiled at Atlanna. “I’ll find out.”

“Of course,” Clark had said when Arthur, the smile evident in his voice. “The more the merrier.” Yes, he actually used the phrase unironically.

The ceremony was beautiful, at least according to Atlanna and Mera. Arthur was grateful for the open bar at the reception – Bruce’s gift to the happy couple – even if it did mean losing to his father in a drinking contest, prompting laughter from Diana and a comment from Barry along the lines of “so much for drinking like a fish.” A glare from Arthur had sent the young speedster running for cover. Diana had shaken her head and muttered something about “mortal children” before following after to check on the boy, while Arthur laughed heartily.

A moment later there was a tap on his shoulder. Arthur turned to see Mera, looking beautiful in her long green dress, holding out her hand to him. “I have discovered what dancing is,” she said, “and I would like very much for you to join me in the ritual.”

Arthur rolled his eyes but took Mera’s hand and allowed her to lead him onto the dancefloor.

Tom watched his son move more awkwardly on the dancefloor than he had ever seen him, but from the smile on Arthur’s face he didn’t seem bothered by it, too occupied by spending time with the woman he loved. Tom knew the feeling well. Atlanna leaned into his shoulder. “You’ve raised our son well,” she said admiringly.

“I had nothing to do with his lack of dancing ability,” Tom said. “He did not learn those moves from me.”

Atlanna continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “He has a good heart. A trait I’m sure he gets from his father.”

“So, you’re Arthur’s parents,” a voice piped up. “Clark told me you’d be coming.”

They looked down the length of the bar to see a woman with kind eyes and graying hair approaching. She reached out a hand. “Martha Kent, mother of the groom.”

Tom shook her hand. “Thomas Curry.”

Atlanna copied them. “Atlanna, mother of Arthur Curry,” she said proudly.

Martha smiled. “Yes, I met him last year after he and the others…it’s a long story.”

“Arthur tells it quite well,” Atlanna said. “He holds your son in very high regard.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Martha said. “I know Clark was excited that his, um, work friends were able to come tonight. He wanted both sides of his life to be here.” Martha shook her head. “He’s always been something of a loner. I guess that’s to be expected. Torn between two worlds, never quite sure how he fit in here.”

“Sounds like Arthur,” Tom replied.

Martha turned her gaze back towards her son, dancing with Lois, a bright smile on his face as he whispered something in his wife’s ear. “But first Lois, then the team. I think for the first time in his life, he truly feels like he’s found his home.” Tears welled up in Martha’s eyes and she reached for a cocktail napkin dabbing at them. “Sorry, I just – I haven’t had anyone to talk to like this since Clark’s father died, and – “

“And raising a superhero’s not easy work. Especially not on your own,” Tom said. He caught sight of the guilty expression on Atlanna’s face and entwined his fingers through hers, pulling her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “Not your fault,” he said gently. He turned back to Martha. “It’s good that the kids have each other to talk to. People to share the weight of the world – or worlds – with. We should probably start our own club.”

“Support group might be the more accurate term,” Martha said.

Tom laughed heartily. “We just need a catchy name and we’re all set.”

Before they could begin workshopping group names, a familiar face came to check on them.

“Bruce,” Martha said warmly, rising to her feet to give the billionaire a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you so much for coming, and for your lovely gift. I know Clark appreciates it.”

“Not nearly as much as Arthur and I do,” Tom said, raising his glass in salute.

Bruce reached out a hand. “I take it your Arthur’s parents. He said you would be here.”

“Thomas Curry,” Tom said as he shook his hand.

The smile on Bruce’s face slipped just a little. “Nice to meet you. I’m afraid I’ll have to be leaving. I have some business to attend to.”

“Day job or night job?” Martha asked.

“Bit of both, actually. Don’t worry. Nothing that requires backup.”

“Be safe, Bruce,” Martha said.

“I always am, Mrs. Kent,” Bruce replied.

“Martha,” she insisted.

“Martha,” Bruce corrected, sadness tinging his voice. With on final nod, Bruce turned and walked away, his long coat billowing behind him not unlike his cape.

“He seems a little depressed for a billionaire at a party,” Tom said.

“That’s Bruce,” Martha said. “All the money and high-tech toys in the world can’t buy what our boys have.”

“Super strength and an identity complex?”

“Thomas and Martha,” a voice piped up behind them.

They turned to find Bruce’s ever-present butler standing there. “Hello, Alfred,” Martha said. “I figured you would have left with Bruce.”

“Ah, yes, I was just about to leave, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation,” Alfred said. “And if you’re serious about that support group, may I offer up Wayne Manor as a meeting location? We do have the room and a more than adequate wine collection to get us through a discussion on the various…trials of raising those who are, shall we say, heroically inclined?” He passed cards with his information on it to the parents before slipping away through the crowd after Bruce.

“I’m more of a whiskey man myself, but I might just take him up on that offer,” Tom said, studying the card.

“Mom!” Clark said, holding out a hand to his mother before she could respond. “May I have this dance?” He nodded back towards the dancefloor. “The General kind of stole her away from me.”

Atlanna rose to her feet. “He steals your beloved on the day of your wedding? We shall make him pay.”

“No, not like that,” Tom said, resting a hand on Atlanna’s shoulder. “He’s her father, it’s tradition for a father to dance with his daughter at her wedding. Clark was kidding.”

“Oh,” Atlanna said, settling back onto the bar stool.

“I’d be honored,” Martha said, slipping the card into her purse before taking her son’s hand and allowing herself to be led onto the dancefloor.

“So, it’s traditional for a parent and a child to dance together at these ceremonies?” Atlanna asked Tom.

“Traditional, but not mandatory.”

Atlanna rose to her feet again. “Then I will do as mothers of the land do and dance with my son.” She planted a quick kiss on Tom. “Don’t get too comfortable here. I will be coming for you next.”

“I wouldn’t dance with anyone else. Unless Diana asks. Then I make no guarantees.”

Tom watched her go, cutting in on Mera and Arthur’s dance as though she’d been doing it all her life and moving with a royal grace their son had yet to learn. He eyed the crowd and the superheroes mingled among the other guests, the ones who had no clue about the heroes who walked among them. Yeah _,_ he thought. They had raised heroes who fought the darkest creatures the universe had seen and were still capable of love, compassion and friendship. All things considered, they’d done a pretty good job. Still, he thought, eying Alfred’s business card. A little whining and wining with people who understood how hard that was didn’t sound like a bad idea.


End file.
